


and i was so young when i behaved twenty five

by BooSargent



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Seven Minutes In Heaven Game, she's just a conflicted gal who cant have the love she wants :/, sorry folks lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 21:19:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17711747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BooSargent/pseuds/BooSargent
Summary: Blue and Gansey find themselves in a seven minutes in heaven situation. It's all fluff, nothing too intense happens, but there is a bit of angst. title from first love/late spring by mitski!





	and i was so young when i behaved twenty five

“This is a stupid game.”

            The closet in Monmouth Manufacturing was already small without one fully-formed teenager and another short but also fully-formed teenager taking up the space. Blue watched Gansey as he leaned against the far wall, back pressed against a mountain of smart, expensive coats. Blue could find that exact type of coat in a thrift shop years from now, after they were no longer “in season” for the rich folk that wore them.

            He ran a hand through his already tousled brown hair, more than making up for the space Blue lacked with his broad shoulders and general Politician Presence. He raised one eyebrow. It peeked over his wireframes, arching and curious.

            “Well, the whole _prospect_ of 7 minutes in heaven is for some stupid boy to get a girl into a small space where she can’t _go_ anywhere, and they’re just _expected_ to do things whether or not the girl consents, and I hate the fact that Opal threw a fit she wasn’t a teenager and wanted to play teenager games without knowing what they were, and—”

            “Blue.”

            She paused, mouth still open as she looked up at him. There were barely two inches between them, and her back was pressed up against the closet door.

            “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. We don’t have to turn the lights off. We can just sit and talk. Or do nothing, and just breathe the same air.”

            Blood rushed to her cheeks, and she stared at her embroidered combat boots, clicking the heels together once. “Okay,” she said, “then let’s sit.”

            It took a bit of folding and compromising, but they managed to tuck themselves into a somewhat comfortable arrangement, the tips of their knees touching and the bottoms of the coats brushing Gansey’s shoulders. It seemed darker on the floor, the lone light in the small closet now somewhat obscured by shelves and sleeves.

            Neither of them spoke for a moment. “How long do you think it’s been?” Blue asked, doing her very best to ignore the press of his skin on hers, the danger caught between her bruised kneecaps and his stupid chinos.

            Gansey laughed, one short chuckle that sounded out of breath. “Like, a minute.” He inhaled sharply, staring at his socks and then his watch and then the coats and anywhere but her. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

            “You said that already.”

            “Well we don’t.” His thumb worried over his bottom lip, brushing it once, twice, three times, unsure what to do. Blue didn’t know where to put her hands, so she folded them in her lap, her own bony knuckles poking at her.

            She bit her bottom lip; not to look coy, but to try and prevent the words from coming out. Oh no, oh no, oh no. “What if I want to?”

            Gansey finally looked at her. His hazel eyes softened immediately, pale lashes fluttering together as he pulled his thumb from his bottom lip and pressed it against hers. Blue inhaled gently as Gansey dragged his thumb across it, curling down until his hand cupped her chin.

            _Danger, danger, danger._

            “No kissi—”

            “I know,” he said. His other thumb brushed across her cheekbone as though he could smear the freckles smattered there. He tilted her chin up until her nose was leveled at his upper lip, until her stray strands of hair ticked his ear, until their knees overlapped even more as they moved closer.

            There was something intimate about sharing the same breath with another person. Before, they had been breathing stuffy air that smelled of cloth and shoe polish, inches apart though it felt like miles. But now their lips were near enough that she swore she could taste them, the mint on his breath diving down her throat and buzzing along the backs of her teeth.

            His thumb traced her face again, the pressure increasing slightly as he pressed the pad of it against every freckle. Unable to keep her hands cloistered any longer, Blue let them free. Her fingers painted across his jawline, feeling the sharp angles of the bones underneath, the small dimple in his chin. They ghosted along the thick hairs of his brow, going with the grain then against it. They traced down his straight Anglo-Saxon nose, to the dimple between the tip of it and his upper lip, until they pressed into the line set in his mouth. His lips parted as if on instinct while all the while he tapped on each and every mark on her face.

            “You have no idea,” Blue said, a tremble struggling its way through her tone. “You have no idea how much I want to. How much it drives me crazy that this is all we can do.” Leaning in even more, their foreheads touched. They were so close together that their lashes intermingled, crisscrossing in an intricate dance Blue was just now learning the steps to.

            This was everything her mother warned her about.

            This was everything she’d dreamed of.

            This was what the curse forbade.

            This was what she was meant for.

            She’d spent so long trying to convince herself that Gansey wasn’t her true love, that she didn’t have one, that the curse was a lie Maura had imprinted on her to get her to make sensible choices. But the more Blue experienced, and the deeper her life tangled with his, the less sensible she was starting to feel.

            Her thumbs pressed into the soft flesh beneath Gansey’s ears as his hands curled through her dark hair, sidestepping all of her various jeweled clips. Her hands wandered, moving around the back and whispering over the peach fuzz strands at the nape of his neck, the soft waves as she moved up and up and up as her heart soared up and up and up.

            They probably looked stupid, all tangled together, no speaking, no kissing, not even the lights turned out for ambiance.

            Blue didn’t care.

 _If only_ , she thought. _If only I wasn’t me, I could do this. I could have this._ And she hated herself for thinking it, for wishing she was someone else when she had worked so hard to curate herself into someone she respected.

            She closed her eyes and leaned into Gansey’s warm, strong fingers in her hair. “How long?” she asked, not because she wanted this to be over but because she wanted to know how much time she had left, both in the closet and with Gansey.

            A resounding knock on the door answered her question. Gansey tapped her lower lip in a silent request, and she opened her mouth. Quietly, he placed a single mint leaf on her tongue before rising. It was a poorly choreographed routine as they stumbled to stand, elbows banging walls and heads hitting shelves.

            “Jesus Mary and Joseph, aren’t you two done in there? It’s not like you can do anything anyway.” Ronan’s voice was cutting from the other side of the thin metal door. She could hear Noah laughing at something in the living room, loud and boisterous and more present than it had been in a while.

            “This game is an antiquated patriarchal structure of adolescent society anyway,” she shot back, giving Gansey one more pining glance before opening the door. Cool air from the factory rushed in. She hadn’t realized exactly how stuffy the miniscule closet had been until her limbs had the freedom to breathe.

            Quietly, she and Gansey walked back towards where the group was clustered near his bed, Noah lounging at the bottom and Ronan, Adam and Opal kneeling on the floor. The goat girl had a small beaded bracelet in her hands, the thin wire the color of childhood, the plastic white blocks spelling “Kerah” as she tied it around Ronan’s wrist, right below his leather cords.

            “Did you have fun?” she asked, eyes animal-bright and dark as old pennies as she glanced between them. Blue ignored the expressions on the rest of her friends’ faces as she smiled at Opal.

            “Loads. We rearranged the coats by color.” Her voice was dry and cracked as she tried to subtly chew on her leaf. Gansey arranged himself at the head of the bed, leaning against the headboard in a failed show of nonchalance. She could see the tension corded in his muscles, and was sure everyone else could, too.

            Opal frowned. “That sounds like a boring game. We should play something else. Do you want to make a friendship bracelet?” The girl held up a spool of orange cord the same color as the Pig. Gansey took it from her and carefully measured out a piece.

            “That sounds great,” Blue said as she took a seat in the middle of the mattress. It bounced beneath her, and she noticed that her and Gansey’s knees still touched.

 


End file.
